


Crossed out in invisible ink

by Kealpos



Series: It all started with a letter and it ended with a kiss [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Dear Evan Hansen mention, Homestuck mention, M/M, Suicide Attempt Mention, Suicide Note mention, Trans Michael, Weed mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 17:20:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kealpos/pseuds/Kealpos
Summary: Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell have strange traditions. This one, for sure.





	Crossed out in invisible ink

It started a few weeks before Michael came out as trans.  
   
The process began. The “process” was Michael handing Jeremy a blank piece of paper, every time he stopped by. He gave no context, and said nothing relating to the pieces of paper besides for Jeremy to “Not throw them away.” And Jeremy complied.  
   
Jeremy was obviously confused and curious, not to mention frustrated when Michael wouldn’t tell him shit and god dammit, I am your best friend you piece of fuck! But, Michael held his tongue, with only a smile paving way that this was not just a stupid mind game.  
   
Eventually, it just grew into another fact of Michael, him handing a piece of paper to Jeremy upon entrance, like it was a ticket he had to use to get inside the house. The papers persisted, and Jeremy often found himself wondering where Michael got all this paper. Whatever.  
   
Each paper was blank. There were never even any scribbles on it. Finally, Jeremy started using the papers.  
   
It was a month after Jeremy had developed his crush on the Christine girl from lunch that he was in his room, bored. Jeremy had gotten a flu and had puked up the cold pizza he had eaten for breakfast when walking to second period, and was sent home.  
   
And so, with school not out yet, both his parents at work, and his player two not available, he grew restless, quickly. He could try searching up random crap on the internet, or finding a new hobby, but his procrastination levels were so off the charts, he kept making excuses to… not do that.  
   
He was like, 16, not that he had gotten his driver’s license yet. His test was in a week and half. That meant driving somewhere was out of the question. It was always out of the question, considering both his parents had the two cars. The train of thought had really spiraled out of control.  
   
Jeremy lay flat of his back, eyes closed as he attempted to figure out something. He could… masturbate? Nah, he did that semi-frequently, almost every day kind of frequency, but he wasn’t exactly in the right mood.  
   
And so, Jeremy pushed himself up, peeling off of his sheets, and looked around his room. Video game equipment, his desk, his drawer, an empty pizza box, and Michael’s blank papers.  
   
He could make a minor solar oven with the pizza box -he had learned how in 6th grade- or… he was already standing and beginning to walk over to the pile of papers in the corner before he could even create a coherent plan.  
   
Jeremy scooped up a paper, which he had lovingly not wrinkled and crushed up, and brought it over to his desk, where he grabbed a pencil from the holder he had, and began to draw.  
   
He wasn’t very experienced at this kinda thing. He knew Michael could draw decently for his life, as long as given enough time and reference. Jeremy, though… If you’ve read Homestuck, there’s a section in an act 6 whatever where Caliborn starts drawing his Homosuck. It isn’t like the simplistic style he originally had, but the triangle headed style where he draws “Karcrab” and the “Alpha Male” about to somewhat get it on. If you haven’t read Homestuck… You should. Also, tough luck, buster.  
Anyways, he drew like that at first; that day he was sick with the flu.  
   
He got better, but his love of art developed. Michael gave him papers every day, complimented Jeremy’s slowly perfecting art skills very sincerely, and Jeremy, in turn drew once a day.  
   
He got a an art development book, a sketchpad, and professional markers when his mom left, a goodbye note taped to the sketchpad. His father got nothing but a divorce paper, a sorry, a peck on the cheek, and a goodbye.  
   
Jeremy really lost himself the first three months. Drawing became an outlet of his, to release sadness and frustration over his mother leaving, his father so desperate and clingy and in denial, and him, rapidly changing, nothing for what seemed like the better.  
   
At a point, Jeremy had stopped using the paper’s, but the sketchpad. He hadn’t even realized it until his sketchpad was full. He still had every paper, and every drawing, and there were more to come.  
   
Jeremy was a week of 17 when his sketchpad was full, and that’s when he realized everything he had been feeling had been documented. A tidal wave of emotions crashed on him when he flipped the pad to the very beginning, and went through, watching himself develop through pain.  
   
Seeing every page again was like opening a scabbed over scar again, only, he knew the scars hadn’t healed correctly the first time around. He had to do this.  
   
He called Michael up at 8:47 PM, asking him to “...Come over, I just finished re-looking through my sketchpad.”  
And when Michael arrived ten minutes later with a bag full of snacks in one hand and a familiar piece of paper in the other, Jeremy weeped into his shoulder, though it was never brought up again.  
   
And then, the Squip happened.  
Jeremy wouldn’t know, but the blank pieces of paper began to stack up in Michael’s room. It was a problem. There were just so many times he had to give them to Jeremy but… Jeremy no longer accepted these tickets.  
   
Michael barely smoked weed. He did it maybe 2-3 times a year. Weed was expensive, and he had better things to spend money on. Like paper. And donations to help trees. He took and gave back, an equal amount, he hoped.  
   
He joined a bunch of plant enthusiasts and the “save the world” types on a trip to a field every month to plant trees. There was a guy named Evan who joined sometimes, though he missed a good amount of meeting near the end of the year, due to him caught up in a viral mental health thing.  
(After Junior year, Evan eventually came back. He one day threw up near one of the trees and admitted he tried to commit suicide once, by jumping off of it. He was never asked to plant near it again.)  
   
So, Michael did that when he was alone, for those months. That and worry his Nanay due to the sheer amount of paper in his room and the fact that he and Jeremy never hung out much.  
   
And so, after the play, Michael started giving Jeremy two papers a visit. Every time Jeremy came over, he hid everything best to his ability. And it worked. Things felt familiar. Jeremy began to draw his experiences out. Things were getting better.  
   
The one day, Jeremy excitedly order a special black light edition of the 3rd journal from Gravity Falls, as well as a black light, without telling Michael. He wanted to experience the book for himself, first.  
   
And so, the two items arrived, three weeks after ordering, and Jeremy scrambled up to his room, and killed the lights. Darkness. And then, Jeremy switched the backlight on. The book lit up, but, it was a big light. The room seemed so… light, all of a sudden, from many corners of the room, and Jeremy was confused.  
   
He shined the light everywhere, and after a few minutes of looking, Jeremy realized something. Everything seemed to be lighter with the black light shone to the corner when there was a stack of papers in said corner.  
   
And so, Jeremy stood up, the book momentarily forgotten, to approach a pile of papers; the one with the very firsts. Jeremy reached down, and grabbed the first one, the one at the very bottom, and held up the light to it, once he wiggled it free.  
   
With a small, quiet gasp of breath, Jeremy realized something very important.  
These papers weren’t just blank, they were letters, written in invisible ink.  
   
And Jeremy began to read. How it just started as quiet confessions about being a boy, turning into mundane routine, he read. He read, groaned at his own drawings for getting in the way, and watched Michael develop and change, on an even more personal level than just being next to him.  
   
He got to read the thoughts of Michael. The anxiety. The dysphoria. The worry. The… the… love. He got to read Michael fall into a one sided crush on Jeremy; read about how he loved it when Jeremy was happy, even if he was happy about Christine; read about how Michael loved plants, and not just on a weed kind of track; read about his love for boys, all boys, not just Jeremy; read about too many things to count.  
   
He was invested. Days in letters turned to weeks to months to almost a year.  
To a year.  
To a point.  
   
There was a hitch, almost. And then Jeremy remembered, this was where Michael started giving him two letters, and this was where the Squip situation began. Disappointment, worry, “Why is Jeremy ignoring me?” “Jeremy won’t answer any of my texts or calls,” “I can’t even give him these letters,” “Why am I writing these?” “Why did I ever start writing these?” “Even if he doesn’t throw any out, he’ll never read them. At least I hope not.”  
And then one letter that made Jeremy’s heart skip a beat.  
   
It was like all the others; invisible ink, a drawing. It was the Squip blocking Michael out, this one. It was like a sick joke, due to what was on the letter.  
The letter was a suicide note in invisible ink, crossed out in invisible ink. Such an important letter, so easily could it have fallen to the fate of never being read, from someone never figuring out the black light, to it being destroyed. Thank god he never went through with it.  
Jeremy sobbed harshly, and had to take a break, as to not get tears on the letters. Eventually, he started again.  
   
His alarm had rung seven minutes before when Jeremy reached the end, and Jeremy knew so much about Michael now.  
   
About his best friend’s mind, heart, soul. About love, about dysphoria, about the fire, about what cheat codes Michael used, about where he got his weed and what he felt when he was on it, about an almost suicide, about boys.  
He wanted to apologize for everything, even if it wasn’t his fault, though a lot of it was.  
   
And so, when his dad found him a sad mess with tired eyes, a mess of letters around him, and the black light barely being turned off, he allowed Jeremy to stay home.  
And he did. To… think about everything.  
   
When Michael texted if he could come over after school, he got an almost immediate yes, and so he grabbed two pieces of paper and went.  
   
He came into the house without knocking, coming up the stairs hollering about how he was here, he hoped Jeremy wasn’t sick, and the Squid interrogated him about why Jeremy was gone so he had better get compensation for the horrors he faced.  
   
What he was met with upon entering the room was a tackling hug from Jeremy, and then a few seconds after, noticing a discarded black light among a mess of papers, and a hitched word caught in his throat.  
   
When Jeremy finally pulled away from the hug, Jeremy’s eyes were red from crying, and Michael’s face was pale, and in a state of panic.  
Michael attempted to stand up and get away from there, only to be held down by Jeremy. He couldn’t escape without talking, he realized, and so, he sighed, and said,  
“You probably need an explanation.”  
   
And he began to talk. Jeremy told him what he had read (which was everything) and he didn’t know when he started crying, but it was probably around the time he started talking about him being gay. He’d never properly come out to Jeremy as gay. Damn.  
   
And by the end, both of the boys were crying, and Michael had found himself in Jeremy’s lap.  
   
Jeremy kissed him, but he didn’t stop crying. That was okay. They had time to figure things out.  
   
Michael, years later, cried again, when handing Jeremy the first letter in two and half years of the three since the big confessions.  
Jeremy grinned at him when pulling out the black light, and yelled when he read the contents of the letter, proclaiming, “Yes! Yes, oh yes, Michael! Of course I’d say yes!”  
   
Jeremy still kept all of the letters. His favorite letter though, was the one where Michael asked Jeremy would marry him.  
The rings on their fingers were just beautiful.


End file.
